


This House is Full of Noise

by Clicks



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 21:26:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7008763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clicks/pseuds/Clicks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Quick, prompt me. I have writer's block."</p><p>"Nathaniel Howe and Carver Hawke's passionate one night stand."</p>
            </blockquote>





	This House is Full of Noise

**Author's Note:**

> Here you go, Yael. Your weird porn.

Nathaniel looked up in agitation as he heard the, now familiar, sound of raised voices outside his tent. He made to stand, hand moving to grab his newly strung bow, but paused, tensing as he heard one voice above the others, louder in its anger.

"I never fucking asked for this! I didn't want to be a Warden! Why couldn't you have just let me die?! Why did you have to interfere?!"

Nathaniel sighed and replaced his bow before pushing open the flaps of his tent. As he began to walk in the direction of the argument, he heard one of his camp mates give a pained grunt. He sped up until he was jogging to the clearing where a number of the other Wardens were stood, the newest recruit standing a ways from the rest, clutching his abdomen and glaring.

"What the hell is going on here?" Nathaniel barked, causing all eyes to turn to him.

One of the older Wardens, Alexander, if Nathaniel was remembering correctly, stepped forward, "This recruit has done nothing but argue and cause problems since we left the Deep Roads. He refuses to be calmed."

Nathaniel turned to look at the man, barely more than a boy, really, who seemed to be the cause of the trouble. He tried and failed to recall his name.

"Kid, come walk with me."

He saw the boy's eyes narrow, and held up a hand before he could speak.

"I'll listen to anything you have to say once we're away from here."

The boy didn't look happy, but he straightened up nonetheless and nodded.

 

"So, what's the deal, kid? This isn't the first time I've heard about you being a pain in the ass. Being a Warden can't be that bad."

The younger Warden frowned fiercely. "I don't want to be a Warden. Why doesn't anyone understand that? I'd rather be dead."

Nathaniel kept his eyes forward as the two walked towards the town they were camped a few miles from.

"Kid,"

"It's Carver." The boy, Carver, interrupted, causing Nathaniel to roll his eyes.

"Carver," he corrected himself, "I get that you're unhappy. I was, too, but what's done is done. No one goes back from becoming a Grey Warden. Besides," he continued, with a quick glance at the young man beside him, "you were _dying._ "

"I know that, but it wasn't anyone's place to make that decision for me! If I wanted to die, you should have let me die."

Nathaniel looked over at Carver again, longer this time, the younger man in the prime of his youth, tall and broad shouldered with a glint in his eye, despite his anger and despair.

"Did you truly wish to die, Carver?"

Nathaniel stopped walking and continued to speak, "Let's finish this conversation over drinks. On me."

He tilted his head towards the building they had stopped in front of, a small, cozy looking pub with a handmade sign that read, "The Purple Cow." Carver raised a suspicious eyebrow at the building, but followed the older man inside.

 

Carver, Nathaniel was beginning to learn, could not hold his drink.

As soon as the pair had chosen an isolated table far from the rest of the bar's patrons, the young man had signalled the nearest barmaid over to them, and promptly ordered the strongest brew they had. That had been just over an hour ago, and Carver, barely halfway through that first drink, was slumped over the table, blinking blearily.

"I had a sister," he began, speaking softly. "a twin. Her name was Bethany, and she was," he paused, blinking rapidly, "she was a mage. Like my brother, like our father." He sniffed, taking a swig of his drink. Nathaniel took the cup from him, pushing his own towards the other man. "Water," he said at the confused look he received, "you're going to need it."

He watched Carver drink the water greedily, a trail of it running from the sides of his mouth to soak the collar of his shirt. He began his next question slowly, carefully, "What happened to her?"

Carver let out a shuddering sigh and looked at the now empty cup in his hands. "She was killed," he said, flatly. "Troll. It attacked us when we were fleeing Ferelden and trying to get to Kirkwall."

He sniffed and wiped his eyes, looking up at the ceiling. "I couldn't save her. I'm her brother. I should have been able to keep her safe. It should have been me dead out there, not her."

Nathaniel looked at Carver, at his tear stained face and red eyes.

"Don't say that," he said quietly. "Would you have wished your siblings to go through the same pain as you?"

"You don't understand!" Carver exclaimed, voice raised. He went on, heedless of the curious eyes now looking towards the two men. "She was the talented one. She was mother's favourite. Garrett doted on her. She would have gotten over it. She would have been strong."

Eyes narrowing, Nathaniel reached across the small table and grasped Carver's face with single, firm hand.

"Now, you listen to me, and you listen well. Your life is not worth any more or less than anyone else. You need to stay strong and honour your sister's memory. You need to live as she could not. You survived the Joining and were given a rare second chance. Don't squander this, your final gift to her, in a fit of childish anger. Live well, and live strong. Live your life fully and with no regrets over the past. Live as Bethany would have wanted to live. Do you understand me?"

Nathaniel kept his grip on Carver's face until the younger man nodded, averting his eyes and looking down at the table.

 

Carver had grown quiet and sullen after Nathaniel's reprimand, only looking up from his empty cup when Nathaniel paid for their drinks and stood, telling him that the two of them would probably need to find a room to stay in for the night, as Carver was in no position to walk back to camp.

The young man stood indignantly, swaying dangerously. "I'm fine. I can make it back just fine."

He moved towards the door, and Nathaniel put an arm out, steadying him as he began to topple forwards. "Sure you are, kid. Now let's go find somewhere for you to sleep this off before you hurt yourself."

 

Nathaniel had managed to find an inn that still had a single room open. The owner warned him that it had only a single bed, but Nathaniel assured the man that it was okay, and, after paying, hauled Carver up the stairs and towards their room.

"Can you stand while I open the door?" He asked, eying Carver as he shoved from Nathaniel's grip and leaned against the wall.

"I'm fine. I'm not drunk. I need to piss, hurry up."

Nathaniel rolled his eyes at the belligerent youth, but did as asked, watching in amusement when Carver pushed himself off the wall and stumbled towards the chamber pot.

"Do you need help?" He questioned as the young man appeared to fumble with his bottoms.

"No! I'm fine." Carver gave a huff of triumph as he finally managed to get his briefs unlaced. Nathaniel politely averted his eyes when Carver dropped his smalls.

While the younger man relieved himself, Nathaniel eyed the bed distastefully. "Looks like you and I are going to be sleeping in close quarters tonight," he announced, flipping back the sheets of the bed and checking for pests.

"Whatever, I'm used to it," Carver muttered. stumbling past Nathaniel and sprawling face first onto the bed. Nathaniel let a small smile grow on his face as he got into the bed with a bit more grace than the other had managed.

 

Nathaniel was awakened by a fist swinging dangerously close to his face. He reached towards the end table beside him, and turned on the naked bulb that was meant to serve as a lamp, groggy mind taking a moment to fully comprehend what he was seeing.

Carver appeared to be asleep still, but he was writhing, tangled in the sheets, occasionally making small, frightened sounds and swinging his fists at an invisible foe. Nathaniel awakened fully when Carver's wildly flailing feet came dangerously close to his groin, sitting up and grabbing Carver's arm, deftly swinging his body atop the sleeping male's torso.

He used his weight to pin the boy down, speaking lowly, "Carver, I need you to wake up. You're safe. I am here."

Carver continued to strain in his grip a few moments longer until his eyes flew open, darting around the room in fear. Nathaniel's body remained a solid weight until he finally calmed, body sagging in the older man's grip.

He licked his lips, making no effort to extract himself from Nathaniel's hands. "I had a dream, a nightmare. There were darkspawn everywhere. Hundreds of them, all gathered in one place. They looked like they were waiting for something."

Nathaniel sighed, releasing Carver's arms and running a hand through his own hair. He swung himself off Carver's body when he was certain the boy was calmed and sat on the edge of the bed.

"That's another part of being a Warden," he said, bitterly. "You don't just sense darkspawn when you're awake. You get to dream about them, too. It's not as bad as it would be during a true Blight, but it's still a pain in the ass."

When Carver didn't respond, Nathaniel looked over, unsurprised to see the younger man shaking.

"So I don't even get to forget while I'm asleep, huh? Of course. Why did I think any differently?"

Nathaniel groaned internally, wondering what else the others had failed to inform the boy about.

"Have you just been dealing with these dreams alone?"

Carver gave a dry, humourless laugh. "I thought they were just the usual nightmares from stress. I dealt with the same after Bethany died."

Nathaniel tried not to let pity colour his voice as he tried to reassure the angry male, "It gets better with time. After a while-"

"My dreams were the only place I ever got to see Bethany after she died," Carver interrupted, gesturing, frustrated, "In my dreams, I could forget that I lived in a hovel with my bastard uncle and depressed mother. I could forget we were poor and one bad day away from being homeless. I could forget everything and be happy again."

Nathaniel was silent, and Carver turned to face him, eyes shining with emotion.

"I want you to fuck me."

Nathaniel stiffened, looking at Carver in shock.

"Excuse me?"

Carver leaned towards him, sheets pooling around his waist, and spoke in an excited, determined voice, "It's the only way I'll be able to ignore the wreck that my life has turned into. Help me forget, just for tonight."

"Carver, you're still drunk. You don't know what you're asking me."

Carver glared fiercely. "I'm completely sober, and I know exactly what I'm asking. I'm asking you to fuck me until it's all I can think about. I want you to fuck me like you _own_ me.

Nathaniel inhaled sharply, arousal a slow flame licking its way ever southwards. He didn't look at Carver as he got out of the bed and silently made his way towards their packs, piled near the door. He noted Carver's soft, disappointed, "God _dammit_ ," as he knelt down and began to search through his belongings, finally finding a small, opaque container. He walked back to the bed where Carver was sat still, staring aimlessly at his clenched hands.

"Strip."

Carver looked up in surprise at the brusque command, but Nathaniel ignored him as he began to remove his own clothes, dropping them carelessly on the floor.

"If this is truly what you want, I suppose it's the least I can offer you. We are going to do this properly, though. I'll not have you hurting yourself in a fit of rashness."

He finally looked over at Carver, who had yet to move.

"Well?"

Carver gave his head a weak shake and stood as well, hastily peeling off his clothing. He didn't hesitate to turn and face Nathaniel, both men bared completely to the other's gaze. Nathaniel let his eyes rove over Carver's body, noting the scars that littered his form, some of them too clean to have been accidental. While he was a few inches taller, Carver was broader, with long limbs and tightly packed muscle that was sure to grow as the man did.

"How do you want to do this?"

Nathaniel was distracted from his appraisal, and shrugged his shoulders. "How do you want to? You're the one who asked for this."

Carver appeared to be at a loss for a moment, but quickly came to a decision and climbed onto the bed on all fours, looking over at Nathaniel.

"Do me like this."

Nathaniel gave another, appreciative, once over, then uncapped the container he still gripped in his hand and began to spread a slick, pungent smelling grease across his fingers. Carver wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Ugh, what the hell is that?"

Nathaniel quirked an eyebrow and moved to stand behind Carver.

"It's an elfroot and rabbit fat mixture that I use to grease my bows. I'm assuming you know what it's for, right? If you're a virgin, we're not doing this."

Carver growled, "Of course I know what it's for. It just smells awful. And I'm not a kid, _or_ a virgin."

Nathaniel smirked and placed his clean hand in the centre of Carver's back. He kept speaking, even as he circled Carver's entrance with his slick fingers.

"Sex doesn't smell good, kid," he laughed softly as he heard Carver grumble, "it's messy and sticky and _filthy_." He accentuated the final word with a twist of his fingers, drawing a gasp from the man in front of him. He added a third finger as he went on, "Sometimes it can even hurt. It's not nearly as romantic as some would have you believe."

Nathaniel removed his fingers from Carver and climbed onto the bed behind him, greasing his fingers again and running them across his length, gritting his teeth against the groan that threatened to burst forth.

He steadied himself, guiding his member towards Carver's hole, just barely brushing the younger man's body. Beneath him, Carver let out a groan of his own, demanding in a frustrated voice, "Stop teasing and talking and fuck me already."

Nathaniel grinned cruelly.

"As you wish."

He gave no warning as he thrust to the hilt, giving the other man no time to adjust. Carver gasped, forehead dropping to the pillows before him. He exhaled shakily as Nathaniel withdrew slowly, feeling the slow, maddening drag of the elder man's cock inside him.

"Oh, f-fuck."

Nathaniel thrust back in just as quickly as he had the first time, falling into a pace of quick, deep thrusts followed by slow withdrawals. Carver was a gasping mess beneath him, fists clenched in the sheets and face buried in the pillows. Nathaniel grabbed the back of his hair, grip just shy of being painful as he lifted Carver's head from the bed.

"You were so talkative before. Where's your voice?"

He gave a yank to the dark strands in his hands, and Carver moaned loudly, "We have neighbours, asshole," he managed in between thrusts.

Carver heard the wicked, dangerous smirk in Nathaniel voice when he responded, "I thought you wanted me to, what was it?" He slowed the pace of his thrusts, grinding into Carver slowly as he began to think, "Oh, that's right. You wanted me to 'fuck you like I owned you,' hmm? That's why you chose this position, isn't it? So I could fuck you like the Ferelden dog you are. Let's make sure everyone in this inn knows that Carver Hawke _begged_ to get on his hands and knees for Nathaniel Howe."

Carver moaned even louder, hand loosening its grip on the sheets and jumping to his cock, pumping furiously.

"Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Nathaniel, I'm so fucking close. Don't hold out on me now. I want to feel you for _days_ after this."

Nathaniel groaned, hand moving to the back of Carver's neck. He ran his hand down Carver's back, and pushed him down, trapping his hand and cock beneath his own body. Carver felt tears spring to his eyes, and his voice caught as the change in position caused Nathaniel to brush against something deep inside him. Nathaniel's thrust were punishing as he bent down to growl into Carver's ear.

"You'll come on my cock alone. I don't want you to use your hands. Do you understand me?"

Carver nodded, gasping, "Yes, I understand. Please, please, _please_."

Carver's voice broke on the last word, tears flowing freely as Nathaniel gripped his hair again and lifted his head. One hand stayed firmly beside his body, while the other moved to remove Nathaniel's hand from the back of his head and place it on his throat. Nathaniel gave a delighted laugh.

"You want me to choke you? You only had to ask. I could have shoved my cock so far down your throat you couldn't breathe."

Nathaniel felt Carver tense throughout his entire body, and then the younger man was coming, giving a final, drawn out moan. He whimpered when Nathaniel didn't stop, moving to put a shaking hand on the older man, only to have it slapped away.

"Where's that Grey Warden stamina? I'm not even close to being finished. I could go on like this for hours."

Beneath him, Carver whimpered again, oversensitive. Nathaniel eventually took pity on him and withdrew, prompting another tired moan from Carver. Nathaniel kept a steadying hand on Carver as he pumped himself over the younger man's back, breath growing unsteady with his approaching c.

They both groaned as he came, hot splatters painting Carver's back. Nathaniel took a moment to look at the mess he had made of the other man's body, then wiped them both clean with a sheet, nudging Carver to the side of the bed so he could clean up the mess of his release.

"I hope you're not a cuddler," he muttered to Carver, who seemed to be barely hanging on to the thread of consciousness.

"No way, that's gross. We're both guys; guys don't cuddle." He slurred, turning his back on Nathaniel and immediately falling asleep. Nathaniel only chuckled tiredly as he turned off the lamp and followed Carver into his own dreamless slumber.

 

The innkeeper glared at the two Wardens when the pair came down the next morning to return the key to their room. They left town immediately after, walking in silence, Carver occasionally making small noises of discomfort. When they reunited with their group, Nathaniel finally spoke, telling Carver to follow him as he headed towards their leader's tent.

Their senior Warden was sat outside, sharpening his sword, and he looked up as the two younger Wardens approached.

"Ah, there you two are. I was about to send out a search team for you," he said, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled.

"I apologise, serrah. I wished to speak to Carver in town alone, and by the time we finished, it would not have been safe for us to walk back unarmed."

The eldest Warden waved him off, saying, "Don't worry. I'm just glad you two have returned safely. I trust that your conversation was an enlightening one?"

Nathaniel grinned wryly. "It was, thank you. I believe Carver and I have finally figured out a way to help release some of that pent up anger, isn't that right?"

He looked over at Carver, who gave an annoyed look and turned back to their leader with a disinterested shrug of his shoulders. "I guess," he muttered.

The eldest Warden stood and walked over to Carver, and clapped him on the back suddenly, causing the younger man to gasp and stumble forward.

"I'm pleased to hear that! Now, I expect not to receive any more complaints of misbehaviour, young Carver. Any time you have a problem, work it out with Nathaniel. Do you understand me?"

Carver flinched and flushed at the question.

"Yes, I understand."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure there are grammatical and formatting errors galore, but I absolutely cannot be fucked to work on this anymore. Thank you for reading, and leave a review letting me know what you thought, if you feel so inclined. 
> 
> cisthulhu.tumblr


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